


A Ballad Of Woe

by aviatordame



Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29062029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aviatordame/pseuds/aviatordame
Summary: [Aoc]When a mission falls through, Impa finds herself responsible for Link's revival and safety. As the two of them struggle to survive under desperate circumstances, thoughts are shared, and their histories as nameless orphans exposed. The two grow closer as allies, and, amidst a war, find something worth holding onto.[Link/Impa;Mentions of Link/Mipha and Zelda/Impa]
Relationships: Impa & Link (Legend of Zelda), Impa/Link (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23
Collections: LoZ: Botw/AoC Rareship Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how this story will be received. Please be warned that there are references to violence, and, as this story progresses, I think there will be more mature themes developing, so the rating may change to M. These two, while they don't really have a great deal of interaction in the game, I headcanon as being very similar. In a sense, they're merely weapons, born to kill, without a name to them. Their existence, in my opinion, is quite lonely (and tragic) and I wondered about their dynamic. This is more an exploration of their characters, and how they potentially perceive one another. While I ship Impa and Link with Zelda and Mipha respectively, I wanted to touch on the grey, which is complicated, and how two people can grow close when things get dire.  
> I also enjoy going into the grit of the war they are in. I wish the game, as splendid as it was, touched more on the fact that these characters (who are mortal) are struggling to survive and every day may well be their last.  
> For the moment, I anticipate this story won't be very long. If you do end up reading this, and you enjoy it, please do let me know! I will be updating very soon.

Link screams.

A strangled roar, blood soaring like waves from his mutilated body. Then he just drops. A light _thud_ as he hits the earth, face down, the red-stained blade fallen. For a long while, the knight does not move. Lifeless. His torso torn, ribs destroyed, his once beautiful face painted in a scarlet ocean. For a long while, Impa believes he is dead and the sight disturbs her so much, she doesn’t dare stop to _look_. To check. Feel for a pulse, a heartbeat; she would rather ignore their deranged reality.

Only gradually does he begin to stir. A twitch.

Four Guardians are on the hunt. Link and Impa have already defeated more than they can count, and, by this point, it is growing all the more desperate. She can hear them, _everywhere_ ; the heavy weight of their claws, peeling the ground beneath; their horrid, cruel eye locking on, hungry for slaughter. The two have been ambushed, and neither were prepared for the assault. It is another battle, another war amongst many. The two are so exhausted, their sanity beginning to loosen.

As Hyrule’s finest, the two were sent on a mission to evaluate the conditions of Hyrule Castle. To ascertain whether it is safe, or, _safe enough_ , to travel there and initiate a retaliation. Of course, it was expected the two of them would be faced with a battle, except neither anticipated there would be _this many_ waiting. The grounds surrounding the castle are flooded with Guardians; they roam the lands, angels from hell, terrifying and almost invulnerable to attack.

Both were so overwhelmed, neither had the opportunity to defend or help one another. Link suffered the most, simply unable to parry six Guardians at once. It wasn’t so much the wounds which have caused his defeat, but the exhaustion. Neither have slept in days, nor eaten anything substantial. Weapons for war, it’s as if the Gods have conveniently forgotten that they are devastatingly mortal.

Assuming Link is dead, or at least dying, all Guardians quickly lose interest in his limp form. Impa assesses her escape route, and if she runs _now_ , she has a strong chance of getting out alive. However, she can’t just _leave_ Link here. Lady Mipha, in particular, would never forgive her, but Impa isn’t heartless. She has come to respect and care for the young knight. Losing him would have major repercussions.

What she needs to be is _fast_. If she hesitates, she may not make it out alive. There isn’t any point counting how many Guardians remain, there are just so many, impossible to beat. Inhaling sharply, she races towards Link _—_ a Guardian’s laser _barely_ missing her _—_ and, roughly, she yanks at his tunic. Link is surprisingly heavier than he appears, and Impa’s miscalculation causes her to lose balance temporarily. She swears, loud, but on her second attempt ensures she is using whatever strength she has left to somehow drag him out of sight, and into safety.

She can hear them. They surround the two, and her sensations are bombarded with the horrendous tone that the Guardians have locked on. Seven have captured them, and Impa stops for a moment. For the first time, she thinks, _this is it, isn’t it? I’m going to die._ And, for a second, it looks as if she _is_ going to die, Link alongside her. Princess Zelda will soon worry, and have a search party sent out. Once they discover their dead bodies, the new shall be sent back to the princess.

What Zelda would feel.

Betrayal. Anger. A vile loathing raging within her.

The princess would be heartbroken, and there’s something about not being to see her face again; her bright smile, heavenly eyes, which spurs Impa to _move_. This is not the time for self-pity, let alone surrender. Damn it, they have fought _so hard_ , and there is _no chance_ Impa will allow them to perish here and now. The war is not yet over. Impa _wants_ to face Calamity Ganon, she wants to _see_ it; to aid Zelda in fighting this beast, to ultimately destroy it, once and for all.

She looks up at a Guardian, hating it.

The Guardian is seconds from firing. The other next to it and the other next to that one, all locked on and ready to shoot. Link groans when Impa pulls at him again. Perhaps it is adrenaline or sheer desperation, but Impa manages to lift the knight onto his feet, encouraging him to lean all of his weight on her. Link is literally a dead weight, and Impa struggles initially, _but she has to get him to safety_. Impa glances at the Master Sword. She has no choice but to leave it here.

Miraculously, Impa moves Link in time before the Guardian lands its final blow. The impact of the fire throws dirt into the air, and hard, sharp pieces of earth cut her cheeks. She does not pause, though, managing to carry Link further away from the blasts. The Guardians move quickly for their size, and she can hear them chasing her and Link. _There’s just too many_ , and they’re too slow, and the Guardians are too fast. Impa tries to wake up Link, shouting his name directly into his ear. It takes a few attempts until, eventually, Link’s eyes slowly flutter open, and he cries out, immediately aware of the pain.

Link’s hand goes flying for Impa’s haori jacket, pulling at her, and that’s when he can hear the Guardians from behind. Something flashes in his eyes, a deranged fire she hasn’t witnessed before. Yet, as he reaches for his Master Sword, horror plagues his face. It dawns on him the true situation they are in; that Impa had to leave the blade behind, just so she could spare his life. He whispers something, quiet, under his breath, and his weak body tumbles into hers. Link grips onto her sleeves, trying his hardest to remain upright, and he squeezes his eyes shut, praying, _praying_. She takes his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her, and, honestly, Link should not _still_ be alive. His bones are shattered, and he is undoubtedly bleeding internally.

‘Run. Just _run_.’

The knight wonders if he is dreaming all of this, or maybe he has already entered the afterlife. Maybe this is hell, and he and Impa are stuck here for eternity. Without even an opportunity to say farewell to those they love, those they have come to care so deeply for, and then his heart ruptures in two. _Mipha_. What would she think? What would she feel? Knowing Link gave in so pathetically, that he didn’t even have the strength in him to survive, just so he could see her face once more.

It hurts. _Bruises_ him tremendously. So much so, he nearly collapses to his knees.

One way or another, Link will get them both out of here. _Alive_. He has to. He has to help Impa, who has now pushed him onwards. She will try and buy some time for him, but if he doesn’t start moving now, then it will be too late. All of their efforts, _everything they have been through_ , will have all been for nothing. As Impa turns, just in time to parry a Guardian’s beam, Link retrieves another blade sheathed to his back. Of course, he would never go anywhere without an extra sword.

Yet Impa’s attempts seem to have worked _—_ for the moment. The Guardian she parried has been defeated, and in its explosion, the Guardian blocked the view of the other Guardians present. The second Impa lands on her feet, Link reaches for her. His hand is tight around hers as he charges out of sight, behind the trees, over the broken gates, and they’re running so fast, a blur if anybody were witness to their escape. Link can only go on for so long, though. Abruptly, the knight’s body betrays him, and he slams forwards, dropping to the earth again. At least, this time, they are hidden.

Exhausted, torn, barely alive, Impa pulls at his limp body. Her knees buckle under the weight of him, and she manages to lift Link up and over her shoulder. The strain in order to do this is maddening. For a split second, she thinks, _I can’t do this_ , but she decides to just _not think at all_. To simply put one foot in front of the other. _She can do that_. She has to do that, for Mipha, for Zelda, for the whole of Hyrule, for _herself_ and for Link, too. She knows, in her heart, Link would do the same and more.

The Gods have clearly grown bored. The Guardians have lost them, and their interest gone. Impa exhales shakily, all the muscles in her body tensing as she carries Link across a small stream, through more trees, and as the night begins to settle, the temperature rapidly decreases.

She has to find shelter. And fast.

It is highly unlikely Link will survive if Impa takes him all the way back to basecamp. For the time being, they will have to do with what little resources they have. Impa is relieved to discover an abandoned village nearby; the houses are deserted, and most have been torn away. There is one, though, which still has a roof. Impa kicks open the door, dust and malice causing her to sneeze. Carefully, she places Link down, and she heaves a sigh, pressing her head to his chest _—_ _a heartbeat_.

Link is still alive.

She breathes harshly, expression pained as she doesn’t give herself a moment to rest.

Oh, how much she _wishes_ Lady Mipha were here. She would be able to sort out his wounds without a problem. Impa, on the other hand, has to resort to more medicinal alternatives. Fortunately, the sheikah tribe, whilst they pride themselves on their combat abilities, are naturally good remedy makers. Impa usually carries around a stash of remedies, from herbs to intoxicants, just in case.

What concerns her most is the fact Link may have infection. His internal injuries are also dire. Impa tears at his tunic, his naked chest exposed; she examines the damage. The deep cuts scattered across his torso. Impa retrieves the appropriate medicine, and in the space of a couple of hours, she disinfects the wounds, before applying them with soft coverings. The internal injuries require something harder, though. In all honesty, the best treatment Link can receive is rest, but she has to help the body fix itself.

It isn’t very popular amongst hylians, but sheikah and zora share their appreciation in a source called Elixir Tears (hylians prefer fairies). Supposedly a source of life, gifted from the Goddess Hylia herself. It is actually quite hard to find this, and Impa rarely uses it, if ever. However, Link is desperate, and she isn’t willing to risk losing him. As the bottle touches his lips, the knight fortunately responds, and gulps down a few measures. Impa strokes his head as he does, grateful for his cooperation.

Then, when there is nothing more that she can do, Impa collapses onto her back. She stares up at the wooden ceiling, the floor beneath her freezing. She gasps, eyes strained, baffled how they managed to escape.

She clenches her fist, beginning to tremble; she’s still on high alert, ready to attack at a moment’s notice, and it’s extremely difficult for her to try and relax. Closing her eyes, Impa abandons meditation; _think of something happy. Think of something good, kind, and wonderful._ Think of her smile, her sincerity, her ambition; think of the princess she vowed to protect. _Think about returning to her, think about winning the war with her; think, this is not the end._

A voice, soft, cradled in her mind, _you are safe now_.

The cold jolts Impa awake.

It is snowing outside, thick on the ground. She sits upright, wincing in pain, before glancing over at Link. He is still fast asleep, but shivering wildly. Impa swallows, and, hands shaking, takes off her haori. She drapes it over his fragile form, and shuffles closer, resting her palm to his head, and pressing her body to his back. Impa is trying her best not only to keep him warm, but herself as well.

The navy skin-tight top she wears beneath her haori does little to protect her from the chill. Right now, though, it is Link who requires as much help as possible. The cold is _hurting_ , and Link’s body is working hard enough as it is to recover. Link subconsciously leans further into her warmth, a quiet moan passing his lips due to the freeze. Impa rests her chin against his shoulder, planning in her head the next move.

For a couple of days, at least, they should stay here. Link can’t walk far, and it’s unlikely the others will discover their whereabouts for a while. Plus, Impa can’t find them herself, and therefore abandon Link here. If any enemy were to find him, which is highly possible, Link would be completely defenceless.

The Master Sword needs to be found. Impa feels sick even just thinking about it.

Now, she needs to prioritise. They require food and water.

That she _can_ do. Impa will hunt. There was also a stream close by. Link needs to be hydrated. He needs to eat. She has to help him. Impa tightens her hold on him, and says, ‘I will be back soon.’ Link stirs, as if wanting to speak, or stop her, but Impa doesn’t seem to notice, too focussed on their predicament.

She checks her kodachi is still in possession. Impa gently removes Link’s bow and arrow, attaching the quiver to her person. As she steps out into the cold, Impa tries her best not to swear loudly, lest she reveal their position. The best thing she can do is move, get her body warmed up, but she also needs to be quiet if she is going to stalk any prey. She makes sure not to stray too far from the their temporary shelter.

If there are any benefits to this war, it’s the silence. Nobody dares venture out of their towns or villages anymore, which leaves foxes, sparrows and bucks easy to find and kill. In fact, to Impa’s gratitude, she catches sight of a fox, minding its own business, burying something in the snow. Impa has the genetics and training of the sheikah for being unnaturally silent in her movements. The fox is completely unaware of her as she pulls at Link’s bow, aiming at the fox squarely.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she sees another animal.

This animal and she share the same prey. Impa is absolutely motionless, watching the maraudo wolf delicately tread across the snow, keeping a very close eye on the fox Impa found. In a situation such as this, Impa isn’t willing to share, or give away her hunt. Link needs food, and if she doesn’t feed him soon, he simply won’t be able to recover. The sooner he has his strength back, the sooner they can return to the others, and end this bloody war once and for all.

Eventually the wolf realises it is being watched. The wolf stills, looking over to where Impa waits, bow and arrow ready.

In one swift motion, Impa changes her target, and the arrow punctures the wolf’s skull.

The fox leaps for safety, suddenly aware of the danger it was in. Impa rushes towards the lifeless wolf, yanking the arrow out of its head. She will need to gather as much meat from the carcass as fast as she can, before other animals smell the capture. Impa unsheathes her kodachi, and the blade effortlessly glides along the wolf’s fur and flesh. She manages to obtain a few good chunks of meat into her stash, before abandoning the scene in a matter of seconds. It was as if she were never there.

Water. She retrieves a couple bottles worth, and before midday Impa is pleased with her success. Heart in her mouth, she hurries back to Link, a part of her concerned that their shelter may have been discovered. Maybe Link has been found. Maybe she will come back to a dead body, and even the very idea petrifies her. She can’t allow Link to die; his life is her responsibility. She cannot fail him.

Except when she arrives, Impa skids to a halt, ducking behind one of the abandoned buildings.

Two moblins have taken a fascination in their shelter. Impa holds her breath, eyes wide, watching. She hopes they will eventually lose interest and walk away, but they can smell Link. And it is a scent they recognise. Impa crouches low, drawing her kodachi, but she hesitates a second longer, giving them a chance to abandon the location. If they knew who was watching them, if they had _any idea_.

Until one of the moblins can smell the meat in Impa’s stash. It growls, nudging the other moblin, and they turn in the general direction of Impa. At least they have lost interest in Link. Impa can defend herself, but she internally curses herself for not _realising_ about the raw meat she’s carrying. Hungry, both moblins stupidly tread towards where they can smell the prey, and the moment one of them is in reach, Impa attacks.

They aren’t particularly difficult to defeat. She’s managed worse, but the severe ache in her thighs and torso make it harder for her. Both moblins are killed within minutes, and Impa now has the job of moving their carcasses far away from their shelter, in case anything were to smell them.

By the time she returns to their shelter, Impa wants nothing more than to fall asleep.

However Link requires attention.

She moves in to check on his injuries. It has been less than twenty four hours, but already she can see signs of healing. _Thank God_ , she thinks. After tightening her hoari around him, Impa drops the stash of meat, the water, and starts work on making a fire. This is done inside, for their own warmth, but also to hide the flames as much as possible. Gathering a few bundles of wood from outside, Impa manages to make a fire quite quickly, before placing the slabs of meat alongside to be cooked.

Gently, she lifts Link’s head, and encourages him to drink a little water.

The moment he can smell the water, Link reacts, weakly downing some. She can see he is trying to open his eyes, trying to wake up, trying to communicate, to say, _thank you_ , but he simply isn’t strong enough yet.

However, as she carefully rests his head, the knight loosely holds her wrist.

Impa, surprised, looks back at him.

Evidently Link is trying to speak. His lips move, but he doesn’t make a sound. Impa leans closer, hoping to at least catch a word, but Link soon falls into slumber again. Perhaps that’s just as well. Whatever Link needs to say, Impa is sure it can wait a little while longer. For now, he must rest.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes, he dreams. Vivid images, painted in his mind, a beauty he simply cannot reach. Sometimes, he dreams and everything he has ever wanted, ever desired, ever craved is there for him to touch. The warmth of a woman, the love of a mother, the heart of a companion. As he dreams of the things he should not dream about, it is his only solitude; his momentarily relapse in which the world no longer depends on him, and he can be a child once more; he can be this odd creature called happiness.

As his body weeps in agony, it feels as if he is levitating. Heaven’s gates have opened, and Hylia’s gentle angels have lifted him, cradled him, carried him far away. A place where the war is over. A place where he can dismantle the blade and shield, the armour he has grown to detest. Where he can take a step forward into another life, another kind of existence; the kind of reality which he never thought he could achieve. 

Link can see.

Before him, as vivid as day, Mipha is smiling; yet her eyes are plagued with sadness, and Link’s lungs tighten. He feels a sudden urge to embrace her close to him, to tell her _everything is okay, I’m here now_ , but when he speaks, he doesn’t have a voice. Link gasps, clasping at his throat, the burn of tears trickling down his cheeks. He is unable to touch her, and maybe she knows it, because her expression is one of defeat.

He wonders if he will ever meet her again. If their paths are no longer interwoven, and this, this moment, is surely death.

Then she presents him with the Master Sword.

‘Be careful, my love.’

Link blinks.

Reaches for the blade. It glows.

‘If you neglect what has been given to you, then you will be all alone. And, alone, you cannot survive.’

Link stares at her, confused by her words. He tries to touch her again.

But, she isn’t there. Suddenly Mipha disappears, and Link clings to the blade, wildly looking around him. The white void, slowly closing in around him, and he scrunches his eyes shut, calling out _—_

_Wake me up!_

And when he does wake up, it’s with a start. Instantly Link is assaulted with pain. He clenches his jaw, groaning softly, placing a hand to his chest. His head is ringing, and even the slightest movement is enough to exhaust him. Slowly, and carefully, Link sits upright.

It’s dark.

Cold.

Link looks down. A haori _—_ Impa’s _—_ has fallen down him. He picks up the material, inspecting it briefly, before coming to terms with where he is: an abandoned house of some sort. A fire burns nearby, and he can smell meat, cooked meat; the scent is so divine, his mouth waters. When Link turns his head to appreciate the aroma, that’s when he finally lays eyes on Impa. She sits, back to the wall, dozing.

While she rests, her kodachi is firm in her grip. Link recognises his bow and quiver beside her. He is about to stand, but the moment he tries to, his legs give in, and a horrendous agony shoots up his spine. The sound he makes is enough to disturb Impa from her slumber. In a matter of seconds, the young sheikah has hurried over to inspect the damage.

The hylian can’t help but smile at her.

‘I didn’t think I’d see _you_ again,’ he says.

Until he realises just how _exhausted_ she looks. In fact, Impa is barely a shadow of her former self. Somehow, she appears older, _aged_. He wonders if he is the same. The two have been through a great deal. Maybe it’s no surprise that the pressure and strain is beginning to affect their physical appearance. Or, Link thinks, perhaps it’s the lack of light.

She rests the back of her hand to his forehead. Link is a little feverish, which isn’t a shock to her. Then, she checks his pulse; it’s fast. Link’s eyes droop, allowing Impa to ascertain how far he has progressed. At least he is awake, _and_ he is also talking. Both are very positive signs.

Then she finally meets his gaze.

‘Hungry?’

Impa doesn’t bother waiting for an answer. She knows Link will always have a big appetite. He watches as she prepares him a juicy slab of meat, and hands it over. Without a moment to waste, Link grabs for it, and takes a very generous bite. He moans in pleasure, the taste gorgeous and so satisfying; his body already feels more energetic.

Actually Link is so enthusiastic, at one point he forgets to chew.

‘Smaller _bites_ , you tit.’

Link chokes slightly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. ‘’s good.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Before Link ventures into the discussion of _what has happened?_ he finishes his meal quickly. When Impa offers him another portion, Link readily accepts. Halfway through his second course, the knight considers his whereabouts. How did they get here? What exactly occurred? A part of him also wonders how long he has been asleep for.

Link picks up Impa’s haori, and passes it to her.

‘Yours, I think.’

She snatches it from him. ‘Listen, I’ll make it simple for you: for the past couple of days, you’ve been unconscious. The errand we were sent on? Failed. Now, you’re stuck here with me until you are fully recovered. Fortunately you seem to be progressing nicely, but I don’t want to risk anything. Once I am confident you’re recovered then we will start our return to base.’

For a long while, Link just stares at her, mouth full.

Perhaps it’s just as well Impa chooses not to beat about the bush. It is best to just get straight to the point, but Link is in _shock_. He can hardly remember the mission they were sent on, let alone losing consciousness. Also, _two days_? He swallows, lowering the food. Two days is a long time. So much can happen in two days. For all they know, there probably isn’t a basecamp waiting for them anymore. Link begins to feel sick.

Impa softens her expression, realising she might have been a little _too_ blunt.

‘Trust me, I know it’s hard not to think about the others. You are no use to them in this state, though.’ Link still doesn’t say anything. ‘We’ll get you moving soon enough. Hopefully you don’t require much more time to recover physically. However, in order to heal, you need to rest as well. I’ve managed to treat your broken bones and it looks as if your internal wounds are on the mend as well. Eat plenty, drink, and sleep.’

She stands, shrugging on her haori.

‘And you?’ Link mumbles, numb.

‘And I’ll protect you until you’re better,’ she says, not looking at him. Link can’t be sure if she is reluctant to be in this position, or if this is just Impa’s way of showing she cares. She stops, sighs, ‘There is some bad news, though, I’m afraid.’ Link raises a brow. ‘Your sword _—_ it’s gone missing, Link. I am sorry. I just hope it hasn’t found its way into the wrong hands.’

Link frowns at her. He reaches beside him, and presents her the Master Sword.

‘Do you mean this one?’

Impa stares in disbelief. ‘You _—_ How did you get that?’

Shrugging, Link places the sword down. ‘As far as I know, it’s been here this whole time.’

‘That can’t be true. I was there when you dropped it. When I returned to the location, it was gone.’

‘Unless it was returned to me?’ Link suggests.

Impa snorts. ‘Yeah, right. By whom?’

The question lingers in the air. Impa decides she would rather not know. It is possible the Master Sword found its way to Link, which is bizarre in itself, because Impa is pretty certain it is an inanimate object. Then again, she has heard legends that the sword truly does contain a soul; and, loyal as anything, it serves only one master.

Solely to patrol the area, but also to have some space, Impa departs the house, leaving Link all by himself. The moment she closes the door, Link face contorts in pain and he falls onto his back. Slowly exhaling, he tries his best to ease the sting electrifying his body.

Link inspects the damage. His tunic has been torn. Somebody must have ripped at it in a hurry, and he wonders if this was Impa’s doing. As he studies his wounds, he can tell she has taken considerable care in nursing him back to health. A small smile reaches his lips, thankful. Link doesn’t really know the finer details of what happened, but he is aware of the fact Impa has gone above and beyond to keep him alive.

That’s when he recalls the dream.

Mipha. Handing him the blade.

_‘If you neglect what has been given to you, then you will be all alone. And, alone, you cannot survive.’_

Tears sting his eyes, and he squeezes them shut. He exhales shakily, hoping Mipha is okay; hoping no harm has come to her, or any of his comrades. Link is a little surprised nobody has found him and Impa yet, but, then again, why would they? Only by chance would they come across this abandoned area and search in this particular house.

Impa is right. The sooner Link is better, the sooner they can join the others. That shouldn’t take long. Although he feels very weak, and everything hurts, Link is now conscious. The knight is not suffering infection, which would have been Impa’s biggest concern. So long as he keeps fighting for his recovery, they should be out of here soon.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep again, because when he wakes up, it’s lighter, and Impa lies beside him, lost in dreams of her own. However, he wonders just how much deep sleep Impa actually enjoys, especially in these circumstances. Inhaling, Link struggles to roll over onto his side, facing his female companion.

Glancing across her, he sees that the fire is out.

It must be dawn. And, by God, it is cold.

White puffs pass his lips as he breathes. He takes sympathy in Impa, thinking she must be suffering as much as him, if not more. Like in his dreams, he reaches out, but, this time, he _can_ touch her. It’s perhaps silly that he sighs in relief. As if, for a second, he doubted that not even this miserable scenario was real. When he touches her, she is freezing.

The least he can do, after all she has done for him, is share his body heat. Which proves difficult, because even the slightest movement is enough to nearly make Link pass out from the pain. A quiet growl escapes him as he shuffles closer towards her, until, finally, one arm is around her, his chest pressed to hers, and he sighs.

That was an effort. Link is exhausted now.

Much to his delight, the sharing heat tactic has worked. He smiles idly when Impa stirs, actually moving in closer. There’s something relaxing, _really wonderful_ , to just hold somebody. Impa could be anyone, _anyone he wants her to be_ , but with all the bloodshed, killings, everything evil they have to commit to, there’s something incredibly lovely to hold another person, and for that person to hold him too.

Link relaxes into her, lowering his chin, his grip on her beginning to loosen. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, can hear her breathe softly beside him; they’re both alive. Tired toy soldiers, able to be human for just a little while. He wonders when she was last like this with somebody else. Link honestly can’t recall. To be affectionate, to receive affection, he has wanted it for years, but such a gift has never been offered to him yet.

What with a war going on, it’s kind of hard to prioritise the domestic bounties in life.

They sleep for another hour. Link wishes he could encourage Impa to stay asleep. She deserves it, but, unfortunately, he is still in a ridiculous amount of pain. It’s not as if he can keep her safe while she rests. When she wakes up, he is already conscious, and their eyes meet briefly, before she rolls onto her back and reluctantly stands to her feet.

As soon as Impa departs from his body, Link is vulnerable to the cold.

In many ways, he wants her to come back.

Whatever vulnerability they just shared together has been eradicated.

‘Shall we try and get you walking again?’

Link doesn’t need to be asked twice.

Determined (or, _desperate_ ), he accepts Impa’s hand. His companion comes over, placing his arm around her shoulder. She counts to three, and then helps lift Link to his feet. Link cries out, a sharp noise in her ear, and immediately he begins to sweat; _this really fucking hurts_. Scrunching his eyes shut, he _clings_ to Impa as he tries his hardest to put his feet _on the ground_ , and he can do that, _he has to be able to do that—_

The cold has not done any favours to his torn muscles. He exhales heavily, and Impa allows him to briefly rest his head against her. She can only imagine how much pain he is in, and she has to give him credit for trying. Link, opening his eyes, points towards the doorway. _Let me try and walk, please. Let me try and prove to you I can get better._

Link shuffles more than anything. His thighs feel like weights. It takes him several minutes to actually reach the door, holding onto Impa tightly as she opens the door for him. Neither say a word as he exclaims again, pushing himself through the gap. _I can do this, fuck. I can—_ Link gasps, and as soon as his boots touch the snow, he nearly cries out in joy. Somehow, _somehow_ , he managed to walk out of the house.

‘Well done,’ Impa grins. ‘I knew you could do it.’

‘Thanks,’ Link breathes. He’s breathing heavily, sweat pouring from his forehead. ‘Sorry _—_ I think I need to sit down.’

‘I need you to walk back inside for me, Link. Can you do that?’

‘Yeah, _fuck—_ yeah, let me… I can’t move my foot.’

‘Come here. I’ll help you.’

Impa is stronger than she looks, and manages to manoeuvre Link back around, so he faces inside the house. Of course Link is grateful for her help, but he is very frustrated with himself. Link has never been this injured before, and, to be honest, he doesn’t have a great deal of patience with himself in order to recover completely.

With a gasp of relief, Link can eventually retire. His whole body throbs, his pulse in his ears, soaked in sweat. Impa helps get him comfortable, brushing a few strands of hair from his eyes. Link naturally leans into her touch. For Mipha, for Zelda, for Impa _he has to get better_. Impa has done so much to spare his life, _he has to get better for her_.

Impa knows that Link’s temperature will decrease fast. She needs to build another fire. Link reluctantly lets her go as she hurries outside, fetching more wood, before dropping it close to him. He still hasn’t quite caught his breath yet, and he has never been in so much pain before. Link twitches, teeth clenched, his whole body tense.

As soon as the fire is lit, and the flames begin to bellow, Impa leans across Link, running a hand through his hair. The comfort alone helps Link calm down, but she is aware of his frustration, his panic. This has not happened to him before, however she knows more than anybody just how difficult it can be to recover from severe wounds.

‘I have failed her.’

‘What?’

Link swallows, tries again, ‘I have failed her.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Mipha. I _—_ I promised…’

‘Don’t be a moron. Stop it.’

Link glares at her. ‘You don’t _understand—_ ’

‘Sure I do,’ Impa snaps. ‘Believe it or not, Link, you’re not the only one who vowed to protect somebody.’ Link is unable to ask whom. He winces. ‘You want to commit to that vow, then I need you to bloody relax. Besides, I doubt Lady Mipha can ever think negatively of you.’

‘How do you know?’ His eyes roll into the back of his head, tired.

Impa twitches a smile. ‘Because I pay attention.’

‘Thank you,’ he whispers. ‘I know you saved my life.’

 _And I would do it again in a heartbeat_ , she thinks. ‘Get some rest,’ she advises gently. Link peers at her through hooded lids, and a small, yet warm, smile reaches his lips. He thinks, _well, there are worse people to die with_. In a matter of seconds, Link has fallen asleep, and Impa isn’t surprised. She may not have told him, but what he just accomplished was remarkable.

This time, he doesn’t dream of anything.

When he wakes up, it’s darker. The fire still burns.

His body feels as if it has been ripped apart. Link doesn’t move, staring up at the ceiling. He knows Impa is close, but she chooses not to disturb him, just in case Link decides to fall into slumber again. However, Link has had enough rest for now. He is tired of rest.

The man wants to _fight_. To finish the job.

‘You meant Princess Zelda,’ he mutters, and, for a while, he wonders if Impa heard him.

The person she vowed to protect.

Link squints, hand to his chest, warmed by the fire.

‘I did,’ he hears Impa’s voice in the dark. ‘Initially, the late king was my responsibility.’

His heart skips a beat. King Rhoam is dead, and he has been dead for several months. Link hasn’t forgotten that time, as he dragged Princess Zelda to safety; as she fought with him. Link allowed King Rhoam to die, and he has always wondered if Zelda resented him for it.

Of course, the young princess hasn’t expressed any emotion of the sort.

Yet he wonders.

Link looks over to Impa. She sits next to the fire, staring into the flames, her expression blank.

‘Until he commanded I protect his daughter.’

‘When was that?’

‘Several years ago,’ Impa pokes the fire with Link’s spare blade. ‘I was appointed as royal advisor when I had just turned seventeen.’

‘That’s young.’

‘Not much younger than when you joined the academy, I imagine.’

‘Fourteen,’ Link says. ‘What does being a “royal advisor” involve?’

‘Everything except what the title implies,’ Impa smirks. ‘I suppose His Majesty didn’t want my position to be too transparent, in case anybody took advantage of my close proximity to the king. In all honesty, Link, my job was to protect him; follow his every movement, keep him safe.’ She exhales. ‘You can imagine what I felt when I heard of his death.’

Link drops his gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know what happened,’ Impa meets his eye. ‘I would have done the exact same. You were right to put the princess first.’

‘Sometimes, I’ve wondered _—_ if you were in my place _—_ would you have been able to spare the king also.’

‘I’m touched,’ Impa says, and she means it. Her smile drops. ‘However, you insult your prowess. You became Her Highness’s appointed knight for a reason. You are just _—_ _better_. I suppose it was only a matter of time until somebody else, somebody superior, came along.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Neither did I, at the time.’

‘What happened?’

Impa frowns, looking back to the fire. She actually hasn’t confided in anybody about history. That is strictly forbidden. Plus, she can’t understand why someone would be interested in her life. How she became who she is; where she came from originally.

It looks as if Link _is_ interested, though.

Those blue eyes are intense in this light.

‘The royal family was the closest I could be to my own family. I believed, if I served them, then _—_ ’ she shrugs, ‘ _—_ well, at least my parents would be proud of something I’ve done.’

Link smiles softly. ‘Me too.’ Impa looks at him, curious. ‘My father, he was part of the royal guard. I never knew of my mother. My father, however, he served. I wanted to follow in his footsteps.’

‘Were you close?’

‘I never knew him.’

Impa returns to the fire.

Link stifles a groan as he sits upright, leaning up against the wall.

‘You grew up in Zora’s Domain, did you not?’

‘That’s right,’ Link confirms.

‘How was that?’ She throws him an amused look. They are both aware of how zoras feel about hylians, and that resentment is given to sheikahs as well. Link chuckles.

But, really: ‘For the most part, I was happy. Sometimes it was reluctant, but the zora taught me a considerable amount. I was well looked after. Trained to become a soldier.’ He blinks, sighing. ‘It helped to be close to their princess. Mipha was the one who kept me safe all this time.’

‘You two are undeniably close.’

It makes sense why Link feels he owes Mipha so much.

‘Fear not, Link. You’ll see her again. I promise.’

The paths both Link and Impa have chosen, though. Is it truly what they want? Or, do they simply believe they have no other option? Both exceptionally skilled in battle. It’s all they’re good at. To entertain the idea of love, to belong to somebody, such phenomena is beyond them.

The two weren’t actually aware that they shared similar childhoods.

Perhaps it isn’t a surprise.

They are matched on many accounts. They work together well. They have a deep respect for another, and an irrefutable trust. As the months progressed, the more they fought as one, until, eventually, it came to the point where Link and Impa can’t imagine fighting this war without the other. It isn’t love, nothing close to romance; that complication is relieved from their bond. What they have is an understanding.

‘You’ll see her again too,’ Link says.

Impa glances at him sharply. _Her_.

The princess she has sworn her life to protect.

‘It’s part of the job, Link.’

Of course the knight would be foolish to respond, but he knows what she must be feeling. Impa, like he, is just another soldier. Nobody would give them any consideration. Nameless children, betting on their lives every day. Merely weapons. They’re not even considered human. Just tools in a war, and nobody will remember them when they die.

The runts. Vagrants, who have never been loved.

Link sympathises. He, too, feels the same.

It is probably best neither divulge into the personal.

The _personal_ , sometimes it just _aches_ too much.

‘I know.’

His voice is stern, a warning, _don’t underestimate me like that_ , and Impa hears him. Impa tears her gaze from his, and continues staring into the fire, long enough until her eyes begin to burn. The sensation alone, though, is only a reminder that she is alive.

As restless souls are, the two fall into silence, yet remain alert.

Aware of each of other. The potential dangers around them. The fact that, right now, all they have is each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating has changed to M.

By the following morning, Link has improved remarkably. He doesn’t require Impa’s help as much as before in order to move around. The knight also carries his Master Sword with him, enthusiastic to get a little bit of training into his routine. Eager to return to his usual strength Link isn’t necessarily patient with himself, however the Elixir Tears seem to be working, and Link’s attitude to the situation is also of great benefit. Hopefully in less than forty-eight hours, the two of them will be on their way back to basecamp.

It is challenging, though, trying to achieve a balance. Link tends to be a little excessive with his training and his body is still desperately trying to recover. It doesn’t surprise Impa that he manages to exhaust himself quite quickly, and it’s actually kind of _annoying_ that he won’t listen to her advice. She is just as determined as Link to get out of here, after all. The more Link wounds himself, the longer they are struck here, and time is running out.

At one point in the day, Impa has to leave to hunt. Link is left to himself. Keeping his Master Sword close, and sitting by the window, the knight keeps a keen eye out. Impa could potentially be gone for hours. Yet despite his physical limitations, Link isn’t afraid. He trusts himself to stay safe; that, even though his body still aches and he can’t walk too far, Link will be able to fend off any monsters. Fortunately, it looks as if he doesn’t have to worry.

Until it starts to grow dark.

Link trusts Impa. He highly doubts she will have got herself into any trouble. Surely, within the hour, she will return. It doesn’t matter if they don’t eat tonight. What matters is that she returns alive. Link is aware of the fact she is committed to recovering him, and in order for that to occur, he does need to eat and drink. But, Link can _manage_ a night without food. Besides, his appetite is slowly ruined with the concern that she has actually been absent for a considerable amount of time.

Usually he wouldn’t be _this_ worried about a comrade. Perhaps he does feel vulnerable, a little exposed. Perhaps it’s the fact he _can’t help her_ , and that frustration is beginning to drive him mad. It should be _him_ protecting _her_. Link has always been the one to keep everybody safe; that’s what he is used to. To have a friend do all the work, and wanting him to rest all day _—_ Link is struggling. If Impa had help out there, she would return sooner, unless something _has_ happened.

‘Shit.’

Link forces himself to his feet. He manages to ignore the pain, for the most part, and grabs his Master Sword. Slowly, the injured knight proceeds for the door, and opens it wide. It is still snowing, and he wonders if it will ever _stop_. Squinting, he looks around, hoping she might already be nearby, but to his regret, he can’t find her. Link exhales slowly.

The options he has are minimal. Either stay here, or go and search for her.

What if she is hurt? What if she’s dying, or _dead_ , and _—_?

Horror strikes him through the heart. Link tries to shake the image out of his head. _She’s not dead, she can’t be; not Impa_. For God’s sake, she’s as strong as _he_ is, but, then again, Link also succumbed to his wounds. If it weren’t for Impa, then he would have surely died. She has done so much for him, and so the _least_ he can do is search for her, find her, _save her too_.

Tightening his hylian hood around him, ignoring the chill of the weather, Link proceeds in the direction of the woods. Most likely, Impa has headed there, as most wildlife shelter themselves under the trees.

Link doesn’t get very far, though.

He stiffens. Behind him. _Behind him, he can hear something heavy._ It doesn’t seem to have noticed Link, and the knight turns as quietly as he can, looking up at the Guardian which has wandered over. Link doesn’t move, holding his breath, hoping he will go by undetected. _Don’t breathe, don’t breathe, don’t breathe_. The Guardian looks huge. Link’s newfound fear has magnified their size and he knows, _he knows_ , if this Guardian discovers him, he won’t survive.

The world around him crashes.

And, his heart stops.

The Guardian looks at him, its ugly eye studying him briefly; then, a red beam emits from the eye, targeting Link.

Immediately Link unsheathes his blade. His feet feel as if they shatter beneath him, his body on fire, as he races forwards, swiping the Guardian so viciously, he manages to break off some of its protective layer. The Guardian wobbles from the impact, but doesn’t lose sight of him. Link gasps, and goes for another attack, desperately using all the strength he has.

A horrible, hot sharpness starts from the tip of his spine; quickly travelling to his pelvis. Link cries out, the sword slipping from his grip. _No… no, it can’t be. How can I not be ready yet?_ The Guardian steps forwards, and hits Link with its claw, sending the injured knight flying. Link lands, heavily, his back hitting the snow. His already broken body sears with agony, and, straining, he rolls onto his front, searching for the Master Sword. _And he can’t find it_.

He can’t believe, _cannot believe I’m going to die._

Everybody he will have disappointed. His heart shatters in two, and he scrunches his eyes shut. Mipha would never forgive him surely, and _she waits for him_ ; to hear the news that her best friend, somebody she has cared for since he was only a little boy; to know he’s _dead_. Link’s throat tightens. All of Impa’s efforts to keep him alive, to keep him safe, will have been for nothing. He opens his eyes, a fire burning in his belly. _I won’t die yet._

_Not yet._

_I **can’t—**_

Link turns to face the Guardian, furious, and that’s when he spots the Master Sword. Glowing in the snow. Calling out for him. Link inhales sharply, and manages to leap out of the way when the Guardian fires. He lands harshly, his ribs sore. Link reaches for the Master Sword, fingers brushing the handle, leaning over further, _please, please, come back to me_.

Then he can hear it.

The chilling sound of being targeted. _Again_. A siren, ringing in his ears. Link is so _weak_ , he can’t even handle one Guardian. And he wonders, _if I were to survive this, I’ll never be the same. I have **failed**._ It dawns on him, a flood of distress, that his entire purpose, everything he is, has been dismantled right before his eyes. No longer a warrior. All that makes Link _who he is_ has gone, and he finds himself crawling in the snow, enduring an anger he hasn’t suffered in years.

_Kill me._

_Just kill me—get it over with, and fucking **kill** me._

It’s just as well. The Guardian is seconds from firing, and Link falls backwards, staring up at it, _hating it_ , and he closes his eyes, _think of Mipha_. Think of something happy. Someone happy. Imagine another life, a better life. Clenching his jaw, he curses the Gods for their cruelty, and he is just so _damn_ sorry for his incompetence. He hopes, when Impa returns, she won’t feel guilty. That it was his fault entirely. _I only meant to find you, to help you_.

The Guardian is suddenly _thrown_ backwards by an impact Link didn’t witness. Opening his eyes, he stares, wide eyed, as the Guardian struggles to roll onto its feet. Ridiculously quick, Impa speeds past him, and lands a blow to the Guardian’s eye, managing to blind it. Link grips hold of his Master Sword, desperate to aid his comrade, but the moment he stands, Impa yanks him by the collar, and shoves him up against the wall.

Out of sight. Hidden from view.

Link feels small. Worthless. Reluctantly, he does as Impa demands, and watches her finish the Guardian. It doesn’t take her long, and he can’t help but feel slightly envious of her agility. The fact she can move so effortlessly. So elegant. Make beating a Guardian look like _fun_ , and he accidentally glowers at her when the Guardian is defeated. It explodes, dropping to the ground.

Sheathing her kodachi, Impa turns to rebuke him.

‘What the _fuck_ do you think you’re _—_?’

‘You were gone _hours_!’ Link bites. Impa blinks, surprised. She has never witnessed Link lose his temper, let alone yell at anybody. ‘What was I _supposed_ to do? As far as I was concerned, you were _dead_ , or injured at least.’

Impa rolls her eyes. ‘It’s just as well I came back when I did. I would have come back to your dead body, and, _bloody hell_ , Link, I would have brought you back to life and then killed you myself. What’s the _matter_ with you?’

Loathing the situation he is currently in, and Impa’s lack of empathy, Link sheathes his Master Sword. He is so _angry_ , he is actually struggling to form words. ‘I wanted to _help_ you.’

‘If I required your help, I would have asked for it.’

‘What would you have done in my place? _Nothing_? I find that hard to believe.’

Silence. Snow gently lands in his hair. He refuses to buckle. The two aren’t actually sure if either may wield their blade, and initiate a fight. Link swears quietly under his breath. He is in a severe amount of pain, but he doesn’t want Impa to know. She already thinks so _little_ of him.

In fact, Link is open to the idea that she will just _walk away_.

Give up on him.

And he wouldn’t blame her.

To just go back to the others, and say, _Link isn’t coming back._

He is going to die anyway, especially in this state. Link can’t defend himself. He is still disgustingly _weak_ , so _pathetic_ , and Link doesn’t recognise who he is, _what he is_ , anymore. Knees buckling, Link exhales harshly, placing a hand to his stomach. He winces, and it’s evident the man is hurting. Impa doesn’t immediately give him any sympathy.

Instead, she rounds him, her eyes sharp. Link can’t be sure if she’s getting a kick out of his submission. Or, if she actually feels _sorry_ for him. He swallows, watching her closely, tense, angry, frustrated, _upset_. Then, her expression relaxes, her eyes are warmer, and she steps over, reaches for him.

Link flinches. On instinct, he slaps her hand away.

‘You _pity_ me,’ he snaps.

Losing patience, and also unimpressed with his response, she pushes Link harder against the wall, enough to inflict pain. Impa is stronger, taller, and, in some ways, _better than him_. She comes close to his face, that same anger returning; resenting his behaviour. She knows it’s all a façade; she knows Link is dangerously headed towards a very unhealthy place.

‘I didn’t save your life for the fun of it,’ she says. ‘I need you to recover, _and you will_ , but not like this.’ She grabs his dominant hand. ‘You want to hurt me, then _hurt me_ ; stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself, and _do something_ about it. Yeah, I pity you right now, Link. This look doesn’t suit you.’ She releases him, and Link bites down on his tongue. ‘Trust me, I know it’s hard. I, too, suffered severe wounds a few years ago. I thought my life was over.’

Link looks up at her, ‘You did?’

‘Of course I did. Believe it or not, Link, we aren’t immortal.’

‘What happened?’

Impa doesn’t want to venture into that episode of her life. ‘It was a very dark place, where I was. I assume it was similar to how you are currently. I promise you, it is temporary; you just need to trust me.’ She scans his soaked through tunic. ‘You should return inside, otherwise you’ll fall ill.’ To Link’s gratitude, Impa doesn’t help him inside their shared shelter.

Once they are both inside, he struggles to remove his clothes. He is shivering too much, and as much as he tries to warm up by the fire Impa is preparing, Link can’t _stop_ shivering. It’s so cold, and he is beginning to wonder if it’s the weather. It only adds salt to the wounds. Link can’t even remove his tunic, and he genuinely feels sick. Once it’s finally off, he throws it down, and smashes his fists into the wall.

Impa looks up from the fire, a little alarmed by his violent reaction.

‘I cannot fight in this shape,’ Link whispers, his lanky hair falling over his eyes. He rests his forehead to the wall. ‘I _have_ to get stronger.’ He winces. He has to get stronger, and quickly. But this feeling of worthlessness, of feeling _irrelevant_ , this depression gnawing its way into his brain. Link has never, _ever_ in his life been incapable of defending himself.

He wonders, what would the other thinks?

Undoubtedly Revali would enjoy his predicament. Until that amusement transforms into pity as well. Being a soldier, that is Link’s life; it’s all he _has_. If he can’t fight, then Link is _pointless_. And, _he can’t fight_. Narrowing his brows, he squeezes his hands into fists, sighing. If they saw him now, they would be so unbelievably disappointed. Link doesn’t recognise himself.

All that he feels, these thoughts he is forced to endure, Link has never had this.

_What will she think of me?_

An overwhelming desire to see Mipha, to have her close, to hear her say _it’s all going to be okay_. She might even be able to help him heal. She would understand, and Link, in time, would be able to recover. _Or, so he wishes_. Link has never felt such little self-worth, and he is half tempted to step outside into the snow, and freeze to death. Nobody would stop him.

Nobody would care.

 _I have let everybody down, after all_.

Somebody _—_ _Impa—_ takes his wrist, and guides Link towards the fire. His gaze drops, and he groans softly when he sits beside the flames, his body scorching in pain. Link trembles, unable to rid of the anger storming his veins. _It isn’t fair, is it?_ All he has achieved, all he has done, it’s all for nothing.

‘Link?’

He turns to Impa.

And his heart skips a beat. There’s something _different_ about her, something he can’t quite place; as if a thought has come to her, and _—_

In the firelight, Link catches himself appreciating her appearance. He never really noticed Impa until now, and she _is_ gorgeous. But, _of course_ he’s never really noticed her. The only person he has _noticed_ in that sense is Mipha, yet so engrossed in the war, he hasn’t been able to act on those affections.

He doesn’t move when Impa shifts closer towards him, but he is distinctly aware of the fact his breathing has accelerated. As if his body knows something his mind doesn’t. To look at a friend this way, he doesn’t mind it, and, with all that he is feeling, it’s actually quite a relief to _—_

She kisses him.

 _Kisses his mouth_ , and it’s far from honest. Link still hasn’t moved. He doesn’t necessarily kiss her back straightaway either, confused, still frustrated, still feeling _shit_ of himself, it doesn’t make sense why anybody would _want_ to kiss him. Then, to his pleasant surprise, Impa pushes herself up against him, and his hands instinctively reach for her hips, unsure whether to hold her here or _—_

 _—_ then, his back is to the floorboard, and their kisses are deeper. Link can feel her body on his, and it feels like electricity as she rubs herself against his thigh, signifying to Link _exactly_ what she wants. And then, he _is_ kissing her back, open-mouthed, his hands enthusiastically pulling at her hoari, wanting to touch her skin, wanting her closer. He begins to feel lightheaded, the pain in his bones ignored, the damage in his body neglected.

Impa retreats. For a moment, anyway.

He looks at her, wondering what she must be thinking, _why she did that_. Link is mesmerised. Her cheeks are flushed, the arousal evident in her eyes as her palms smooth down his chest, careful not to touch his injuries. Link exhales, and can only _imagine_ what is beneath those clothes. Yet, before he reaches up to help her out of them, _because, honestly, the need is almost impossible to tolerate_ , he does wonder, _what **are** we doing?_

Clearly Impa has assumed what’s on his mind.

‘Think of her,’ she whispers, _because that’s what she will be doing_. It isn’t Impa kissing him, it isn’t Impa pulling away at her own clothes, it isn’t Impa straddling his hips, it isn’t Impa whose tongue is in his mouth. _Think of her_. Link knocks his head back, and he does exactly that.

Link thinks of Mipha.

And Mipha feels incredible. She’s so warm. Heavenly. Link wants her to know that. At some point, he isn’t sure how, he encourages her to tumble backwards with him, until she’s against the floorboard and he can hover over her. Mipha cradles his face in her hands, and her lips are soft, her mouth inviting; she bites on his lower lip, sucks gently, and Link kisses her neck, enjoying the sharp intakes of breath she makes.

He uses his teeth. Marks her skin. Without much consideration, Link pulls at Mipha’s garments, and she helps him undress her. Her skin is _so soft_ , like velvet; a woman beneath him, incredible and glorious. Link bucks into her, and she nips his ear, fingers running through his hair, and he kisses her hungrily; he can feel Mipha’s breasts against his naked chest, and that throws him off for a second. _For a second_. Link cups one gently in his palm, his tongue hot as he teases her nipple, and she responds with a jolt, yanking at his hair.

Mipha is quiet. But she breathes heavily, her breasts sensitive to his touch, body trembling beneath him; she is enjoying this. _She wants this_. She wants this as much as he does. Link wants to talk to Mipha, wants to tell her all he has ever wanted to say, but he stops himself. Every time he needs to speak, he kisses Mipha instead, the tips of her fingers delicately tracing his spine. A wave of possessiveness passes through him, and a low growl escapes him as Mipha reaches for his half-erect cock. It throbs in her gentle grip, and Link shudders as she begins to stroke him. He hovers his mouth over hers, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation.

As his enjoyment grows all the more transparent, Mipha’s excitement magnifies. She strokes him faster, a little harder, and he groans loud; kissing her, and it’s rough. Mipha responds in kind, and, _fuck_ , she feels amazing. Gasping, Link needs her to stop in case he comes prematurely, and he doesn’t want to risk that right now. He wants _her_ , he wants to be inside her, and that’s all his mind can focus on. Link shudders; he can feel how wet she is. She lets out a quiet whimper as his fingers pass her entrance, finding her clit, a little swollen, and, _Gods_ , she’s so _wet_.

She seems to know what she wants, spreading her legs a little wider to give him more access. Link is throbbing; he feels so tight, and he’s shaking all over. Mipha reacts positively to the pad of his finger rubbing her clit, and he loves, _loves_ how she sounds; subtle, yet _incredible_. She whispers something, a language he doesn’t understand, and then she readjusts her position, massages his erection, and draws him nearer to her. Link kisses her, once.

‘You ready?’

Deliberately, Mipha doesn’t vocally respond, but kisses his mouth, her consent clear. Link, slowly, sinks into her, and the moment he does, Mipha tenses beneath him. She is so _tight_ , soaking for him. Link gasps, patient for her to adjust to his size. When Mipha reaches for him, she raises her hips, encouraging him to move. Pain travels from his spine again, and Link needs a second to brace himself; every now and again, his body reminds him of his poor form.

She kisses his mouth, his cheeks, his face. _Mipha is so lovely_ , so careful with him; _she understands_ , and she has no expectations. All she wants is him. And whatever happens, it will all be okay. Right now, _here_ , this is safe. This is just the two of them, and it’s the closest he has felt to happiness in years.

Then he starts to move, soft and slow at first. She wraps her legs around his hips, arms around his middle, and he kisses her neck; _her scent is wonderful, familiar_ , but it does not belong to Mipha. Gradually, Link begins to increase his pace, the sensation of his cock slipping in and out of her, _fuck_ , it’s enough to make him come then and there. They’re kissing again, she strokes his hair, and he feels ignited; he feels loved; he feels wanted.

‘Harder,’ Mipha whispers.

Link obliges. He thrusts into her with sharp, shallow jolts and each time he dives into her, she gasps, moans, and Link opens his eyes _—_

It shocks him, witnessing Impa almost _submissive_ beneath him; but what shocks him all the more is how _divine_ she is. Her breasts, waist, legs, _and she feels so incredible_. Panic sets in for a second when Impa realises he’s looking at her, that he isn’t fantasising about another woman, but he is _looking at her_. When Link realises they’re fucking each other, and it’s not Mipha, it’s Impa.

Then she sort of accepts Link’s decision. And the mood of everything swiftly changes. More to spare him from further pain, she switches positions, so she’s riding him. Link breathes out slowly, and she takes his entire length; quick, sharp movements, and it’s almost like they’re in a hurry. Racing to the end. He grips her waist, digging his nails into her. She can feel him throbbing inside her, and they breathe heavily, desperate to finish.

Link can’t believe what he is feeling.

Because it’s beyond anything he ever imagined. Impa is addictive. It feels wonderful, so _intense_ , being inside of her. Not to mention the view, _her body_ , Link can hardly breathe just looking at her. He hopes she is enjoying herself as much as he is, and he wants to hear Impa; wants her to moan, tell him how good it feels, how much she enjoys him, but Impa is terribly quiet.

Despite the immense amount of pleasure, both are struggling to come. They fuck for a while, and it’s perfect; both lost in each other. Until she starts to grow sore, and he’s losing confidence in himself. Impa looks at him, and he can see doubt beginning to jeopardise her enthusiasm. Because she is losing interest, Link does too, and, to his regret, Impa starts to slow down. She’s had enough, it isn’t working, _this was a mistake_.

‘Impa?’

Whatever insecurities and disappointment Impa is feeling, Link feels the same. Sorry, he watches Impa abandon him. The hylian knight stares up at the ceiling for a short while, wondering what to say, whether there is _anything_ he can say. He knows she has done this to help him, to heal his self-esteem, to make him realise he is wanted, he is desirable, he is still worthy.

Perhaps that was too much of a demand. Perhaps fantasying about somebody else, and then feeling the competition to make the other orgasm first _—_ perhaps it was too much pressure. They weren’t being honest with each other; there was so much on their mind. It naturally would not work. Of course, neither can brush off the fact that they feel _less of themselves_. It irritates Impa that somehow her plan backfired, and now both she and Link feel worse than before.

The fire continues to burn. Impa dresses, and throws Link his now dry tunic.

Reluctantly, he pulls on his boxers and tunic, watching her with a mix of guilt and concern. Impa still hasn’t said anything. And, he wants to tell his friend that _it doesn’t matter, it’s just sex_. It can’t always be fireworks. But he understands how it’s hard to not feel like one has underperformed. Neither have much to feel proud of, so knowing they aren’t very good sexually is quite a blow. Although, Link realises, it’s got nothing to do with how _good_ they are, but the circumstances they put themselves in. Impa is being harsh on herself.

And it’s not as if they didn’t enjoy themselves.

To his relief, Impa doesn’t _completely_ avoid him. Sitting beside Link, she quietly starts to prepare their dinner with the hunt she killed earlier. Wanting to be helpful, Link fetches their water from Impa’s stash, and offers her some first. A little forceful, she takes it from him, before returning it after a few sips. Link’s mouth is dry, and he has a few generous gulps. Impa still hasn’t said a word.

Although neither has he.

‘You all right?’

‘Yeah,’ she mutters, obviously not all right.

Link drops his gaze. Maybe it’s best they _don’t_ talk. She needs space. It was a mistake, and they were stupid for trying. He sighs, wanting to say something encouraging such as _you’re beautiful_ or _you felt really good_ , but even just _thinking_ about saying such things makes him feel daft.

However, he wishes she knew how much she has actually _helped_. Her invitation was certainly unexpected, but, it’s nice to be held like that, to be with somebody so intimately, and she was _lovely_. It isn’t love he necessarily feels for her, but he cares deeply about what Impa is thinking, what she is feeling. Link just hopes she had _some_ fun, at the very least.

They don’t talk much. Impa inspects his wounds after dinner, and they’re almost healed completely. All that’s left is for the internal damage to recover. The fact he was able to make love, though, was a transparent sign that he is headed in the correct direction. In fact, Impa was amazed by the fact he could perform, despite his severe mental and physical injuries.

Something is unresolved between them. Link wonders if they will ever be able to move on from it, or if he needs to _—_ _act_. In all honesty, the moment they attempt to fall asleep, all Link can think about is _her_. He tries his best not to make his arousal evident. Wonders if she’s thinking the same, or if she’s already fast asleep. He wouldn’t blame her if she is.

Link rolls away from her. It takes him a couple of hours before he manages to relax, and fall into slumber. The night is peaceful, and the fire keeps them warm. Link’s eyes slowly close, and he feels hopeful; he feels optimistic that, soon enough, he will be back to normal. That he will recover. That they will return to the others, fight this war and defeat Ganon finally.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t sleep for long. Three hours later, and he’s wide awake. Link sighs, rolling onto his back, and the manoeuvre doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. He feels for his cuts, and they’ve healed over successfully. A jolt of excitement rushes through him.

He turns, wondering if Impa might be awake.

To his surprise, she _is_ awake. Impa lies on her side, expression vacant, and in the little light, he can’t tell what is going on in her head. For a moment, he’s worried she has been crying, but maybe she just can’t sleep either. The moon is so bright through the window, and the fire has gone out. The drop in temperature hits Link like a sea of knives and he shudders a little.

For their own sakes, he moves closer towards Impa, hoping they can forget about the prior evening and help each other stay warm. Yet as he comes over to join her, Impa evidently stiffens, and Link wonders if _she isn’t comfortable with this_. Maybe he _has_ disappointed her, maybe she doesn’t want him to touch her anymore; maybe the sex has affected her more than he realised.

Which hurts.

Which _really_ hurts.

Then she pulls at his collar, warm and wonderful, kissing him deeply. This time, it’s softer; this time, it’s almost _tender_ ; and, this time, Link thinks solely of Impa. His friend, his closest comrade, somebody who saved his life, somebody who wants to be wanted and, for her, he kisses her back, welcoming her, wanting her too. Link doesn’t require much encouragement, he knows how good she feels, and to suddenly be aware of what they’re about to do makes him feel dizzy.

Link isn’t sure why this is so different. It’s _looser_ , effortless. They help each other undress, and he kisses her body, her breasts, holds her close to him, and as he slips inside her, a smile reaches his lips when she’s vocal. Link wishes he could see more of her, but he enjoys the noises she makes. Impa knocks her head back, gripping onto him, and all she can focus on is the rising pleasure building from where they’re joined, to all over her body.

This time, they fit perfectly, in unison, _finally together_ , and she expresses her relief, her _need_ for him to keep going. This time, they are open and vulnerable to each other, and it makes all the difference. Link groans, slamming his mouth to hers, and his movements grow frantic, _desperate_ , and their sex is loud. Their sex is mind blowing. Link can’t _believe_ how much smoother this ride is, how within only a couple of minutes, he can feel himself nearing his climax.

Link is about to withdraw, afraid she might not want him to come inside her, but Impa doesn’t seem to care. She holds onto him tight, and to be given this freedom, Link shudders, the heat in their bodies beginning to rise as he thrusts deeper inside of her. He wraps his arms around her, pushing her into his body, and she grips tight as she lets out a cry, _breathless_ , and he can _feel_ her orgasm. Tighten and flutter around his cock, the sensation in itself tipping him over the edge.

All he sees is stars. He can’t breathe. The feeling is indescribable, other worldly, powerful. Link comes hard, nearly falling onto her. He tries to catch his breath, breaths shallow, fast.

To say the least, they are both _relieved_.

He looks down at Impa. There’s a brief pause as they try to comprehend _what just happened_ , and they have to laugh. She’s practically _glowing_ , still calming from her orgasm; Link is almost in love with the sight, but, more than that, he’s happy to have satisfied her. _Where on earth did all that come from?_ Regardless, Link is _exhausted_ now, and Impa has evidently relaxed against him. That round worked so much better than the previous.

‘Was that us?’

Link smirks, still breathless. ‘I think so.’

All the unresolved tension has been eradicated. And Link is more than grateful. He rests his head to her shoulder, content, and once he has recovered somewhat, Link rolls onto his side, and draws her in for a cuddle. It’s nice. It’s really nice. He hasn’t felt this good in so long.

‘Thank you,’ he whispers softly, stroking her hair as she begins to settle into a deep sleep. Impa doesn’t respond, but she hears him.

In a matter of seconds, Link’s eyelids begin to feel heavy, his body begging for rest.

Holding Impa securely against him, Link surrenders to sleep, and, for the first time in his life, he does so with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Link is the first to wake. It has been some time since he’s witnessed sunlight, and it shines in through the window, casting warmth across them. He twitches a smile, glancing at the woman beside him, and a rush of affection captures him whole, but he doesn’t act on it. What occurred last night, and this morning, as incredible as both events were, Link would hate to complicate matters between them. In all honesty, he isn’t entirely convinced Impa would choose to pursue anything either; she knows where his heart lies, and Link is almost certain her heart lies elsewhere too. What happened, what this is, it means nothing.

In the most ideal sense, anyway. Link neglects considering the fact that both he and Impa are human, and what they shared was a vulnerability they haven’t expressed to anybody else before. If anything, their friendship could not be more secure, and Link would hate to lose that gift. He would hate to lose _her_ , just because they had sex. Because, so long as they make it this way, the sex has no string attached. It was purely for comfort’s sake, helping the other out of their depressed state; it was a generous invitation to feel loved, however briefly. The two have been through many things, so surely they can manage this.

Besides, when he and Impa return to the others, everything they have shared will have to be forgotten about. Or, at least, made irrelevant. Link inhales. Perhaps he is overcomplicating this already. Maybe Impa won’t even care. Maybe _he_ is the one who will struggle to move on from what occurred, and a guilt seeps in, as he considers the others waiting. By now, do they believe they’re dead? Would they have any idea that the two have done what they did? Would they _care_? This is a war. Anything can happen.

Since Link was knocked unconscious, this is the first time he has been awake before her, which means he can finally be the one to prepare the fire and breakfast. Carefully, so as not to disturb Impa, Link stands to his feet. It doesn’t hurt as much as yesterday. He still strains, and the muscles in his thighs remain angry, but at least he can move around independently. Link throws up his hood, and opens the door to outside. He double checks to make sure the coast is clear, before gathering pieces of wood in the abandoned village.

He wonders who once lived here, whether any of its former civilians are still alive. From the state of the buildings, Link can’t help but fear they didn’t make it, but there’s no harm in hoping. Link avoids the malice which, fortunately, is unable to spread due to the snow. That’s when Link realises, _it’s stopped snowing_. Finally. He never thought the day would come. Sighing, he breathes in the fresh, chilly air. He can’t recall the last time he felt _like this_ , content in himself; almost a break from all the battles, a sort of refuge he can share with his equal. Away from the rest of the world, where they are safe.

Yet he does miss the others. He misses Mipha dearly, and even the memory of her squeezes at his heart. It is probably best he doesn’t think about her too much, otherwise he will just make it all so much worse. Once Link has gathered enough wood for the fire he returns to the house, and quietly places them down. Impa is still asleep, oblivious, and Link smiles crookedly, happy to be able to return the favour. Although, honestly, he owes this woman his life. She has given him so much, let alone spared him from death.

The fire is soon crackling, warming up the room. Link starts work on the leftovers they had from last night, prepping the small pieces of meat for breakfast. Perhaps it’s the smell of meat cooking, the warmth, or sunlight, but Impa begins to stir. Link tenses a little, wondering if she recalls what happened not too long ago, how close they were, how intimate was. He isn’t sure whether things will now be awkward between them, or, God forbid, feelings have developed. Link truly hopes the latter does not occur.

Drowsy, Impa rubs her eye with the heel of her palm. She glances at Link, who smiles at her.

‘Morning.’

‘Hey,’ she mutters, trying to wake up properly.

‘You hungry?’

Impa doesn’t really know. She shrugs. ‘I could eat, I guess.’

‘Good,’ Link replies.

Then it occurs to her that Link is making breakfast. She raises a brow, ‘You’re feeling better?’

‘Much better,’ Link confirms. ‘Moving around doesn’t hurt as much. Whatever you did, it certainly helped a huge amount.’

Impa frowns.

Link stammers, ‘I _—_ I mean, you know, the medicines you’ve been giving me.’

For a second Link is terrified he has dug himself a grave. Then, to his relief, Impa laughs. ‘Nice save,’ she stands to her feet, and Link’s eyes pass down her form, and despite her being fully dressed, he remembers every inch of her from last night. He clears his throat, quickly looking away when she walks over to join him.

Everything seems fine. Normal, even.

Impa busies herself with sharpening her kodachi, and even offers to give Link’s spare blade some attention too, which he is grateful for. The silence isn’t awkward at all. In fact, it’s reassuring. Impa isn’t making this a big deal, and Link is relieved, but a part of him does wonder what she truly thinks about the situation. _Does she even remember?_ He nearly slaps himself. Of _course_ Impa recalls the events of last night.

Neither eat very much, but at least their stomachs are full. Link opens the door to the house, leaning against the doorway. Now that the snow has stopped falling, he might use this to his advantage to do a little training. Link needs to get up to speed, what with his recovery. Fortunately, he is with potentially the best person he could practice with. Turning to look back at Impa, she has just finished sharpening his blade.

‘The weather is good. I wondered if we could train a little. Perhaps, tomorrow, we can return to basecamp? Find the others?’

‘It’s a plan,’ she breathes, and Link isn’t sure if she’s actually _reluctant_ to return. Then again, this is Impa, who is almost impossible to read. Impa meets him at the door, and passes him his now sharpened sword. ‘A _good_ plan,’ she adds. ‘You’ve actually recovered quicker than I anticipated, so, yes, we should set off tomorrow. Early.’

Link watches her briefly. Wants to ask, _are you okay? Was last night okay?_ But, wisely, he stops himself. What a stupid question. As far as he is concerned, Impa hasn’t given either encounters a second thought. _It’s just sex_. So, without a word, Link sheathes his sword, and, together, they walk out into the cold.

The first thing Link has noticed is his pace; he’s certainly slower. Not that that matters for now. Once the two find a decent patch of earth to practice, Impa initiates Link to make the first move. She retrieves her kodachi, but doesn’t seem _too_ concerned. Link realises they’ve rarely practiced together, and he isn’t sure if she’s putting on an act, or if she actually thinks _that little_ of his abilities. Well, Link will correct her on that.

Quite gladly.

Link balances the Master Sword in his hand, feeling its energy soar through him, and he darts towards her, snow flying up behind him. While Link depends more on his strength, for Impa it’s her agility, and she dodges out of his way infuriatingly easily. Link can hear her laughing quietly, clearly amused. Very well. Perhaps a different tactic is in order. He may be muscle, but Link can be quick as well.

In sharp movements, he homes in on her. One might think that Link would be at an advantage with his _much larger_ sword, but apparently not. There is a reason why Impa prefers her weapon of choice. Plus, she uses her body as a weapon too, and those legs are _strong_. Link tries to catch her off guard, surprisingly fast considering his form, but Impa is acutely aware of every intention he has in mind.

At one point, he does manage to disturb her balance slightly. She manages to counterattack, and, _Gods_ , she is _quick_. A mere blur. Link inhales sharply, and, to his surprise and amusement, he completely loses sight of her. She reappears, seemingly out of nowhere, a signature sheikah move Link is unfamiliar with, and he simply doesn’t have enough time to block her next attack. Link, rather dumbly, falls back, landing on his backside.

‘You really _do_ fight like a guy,’ she grins.

Link raises a brow.

‘As in, _really badly_.’

By now Link is used to Impa’s cockiness. She can be a show-off. But to throw insults at _him_? Wow. He stifles a laugh, and immediately shoots to his feet, ignoring the minor pain in his bones. Link swirls the blade in his hand, refusing to surrender. He won’t let her win. Not with that infuriatingly smug grin.

Link charges for her, and the impact of his attack interrupts her attempt to counter. In a swift movement, Link knocks his boot over her ankle, making her fall, and he is about to ready the blade to her throat. Yet, to his horror, Impa _immediately_ jumps back to her feet, and all of a sudden it isn’t just one knife she holds, but five.

In other words, Impa is _everywhere_. She surrounds him, and Link struggles to block each attack. To say the least he is extremely impressed, but he can’t _believe_ she is winning _again_. Should Link blame his wounds, or is Impa actually _this_ good? He can’t help himself, but smile wide as she goes in for one final attack, but he catches her wrist, stopping her, and the act is so _normal_ , Impa is actually taken by surprise.

Then she feels the edge of his blade against her neck.

‘Was I distracting?’ Link teases.

She huffs. ‘I thought I’d give you that one.’

‘Right. Because you’re so generous,’ he smirks, sarcastic.

Impa pushes the Master Sword out of the way. There’s a glint in her eye which Link recognises, similar to the way she looked at him last night, before _it all_ happened. And, he would be lying if he admitted that same curiosity had not returned either. He breathes in deeply. _No, don’t think about it. Don’t think about her that way. She’s your friend. It was once._ Link has never felt pure lust for anybody before in his life.

It’s a bizarre, exciting sensation.

And he wonders if it is, indeed, requited.

‘You’re fine,’ she comments. ‘A little slow, but nothing to lose sleep over.’

‘I owe it to you,’ Link says. ‘You’re the reason I’m still here.’

Perhaps it’s too personal, too emotional, because Impa decides to ignore that remark. Turning away from him, Impa considers returning to their original mission: to assess whether Hyrule Castle is safe enough to take back. Of course it isn’t, but, if Link and she are careful, they will be able to ascertain the best way to attack.

They are _here_ , after all, and they might as well use this final day to complete what has been asked of them.

‘Shall we?’

Link blinks, ‘What?’

Impa points in the direction of Hyrule Castle. ‘Have something to report back to Her Royal Highness.’

Doubt and fear immediately take control. Link’s face goes white.

‘Now?’

‘Link,’ Impa sighs. ‘You’re going to have to face them again. There’s no point in hiding.’

That actually irks him. ‘I’m not hiding,’ but he manages to maintain a soft tone. ‘I would just _—_ ’ _hate a repeat of what happened last time_.

Link needn’t bother finishing his sentence, though.

Stepping towards him, she takes his hand. ‘I promise, we won’t go near the Guardians.’

He exhales and nods his head. Link doesn’t understand why he _is_ scared, but Impa is right: he has to face his demons. One way or another, they must win this war, and that can’t be achieved if Link would rather not fight. Impa lets go of his hand and they walk in the direction of Hyrule Castle, the snow crunching beneath their boots.

The journey doesn’t last more than half an hour. Link is one step behind, the Master Sword heavy on his back. He wonders, _what if a repeat of last time happens, but it’s Impa who is in danger?_ Struck with fear that his closest friend may endure the same injuries as he, Link tenses. Sometimes, he really does think too much, and his mind likes to toy with him. Link hasn’t fully recovered yet. If anything _were_ to happen, he truly _hopes_ he is strong enough.

Of course it could also be a confidence issue.

A cold, sharp ball of snow smacks him square in the face.

Link swears loudly, wiping his hand down his wet face. Baffled, he stares at Impa, ‘What was _that_ for?’

‘You’re distracted,’ she chuckles. ‘I can’t have you being distracted.’

‘Is it that obvious?’

Impa shrugs, ‘ _Yes_. Remarkably so.’

Dragging a hand through his hair, Link honestly can’t defend himself. Is she honestly that surprised he is distracted? A lot has happened in the past few days, let alone between themselves. ‘Sorry to hear that,’ he mumbles, making a snowball of his own and then hurling at her. Impa effortlessly dodges.

‘That was poor.’

Link rolls his eyes. ‘Smug bastard.’

‘Oof. That cut deep.’

More out of sheer desperation to win a round, Link, in a very committed manner, creates another snowball. He is just about to throw it, but Impa beats him to it, her snowball smashing into the back of his head. Laughing mockingly, Link spins around and rather aggressively sends it flying in her direction.

And Impa watches it fly right by her.

‘Wow,’ she places a hand on her hip. ‘Now I understand why you’re the Chosen One.’

‘At least _I am_ ,’ Link grins, and her laughter is delightful to his ears. ‘Besides, maybe I _am_ distracted.’ He crouches down to make another snowball, and the moment he looks up, he is met face-to-face with snow again. _Fuck_. How does she keep _doing this_? ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he murmurs, ‘We’ll see who’s laughing in a minute.’

Then, by God’s grace, he hits!

Impa is actually _shocked_. In fact, Link’s aim is so precise, he manages to leave a red mark on her cheek.

Appalled, Impa just _won’t_ take that without a fight. Link, now anxious of the fact he has potentially antagonised one of the greatest warriors in the world, scurries for more snow. But he’s just so _slow_ , and his hands aren’t quite as efficient as Impa’s. Link is better with swords, and rough, metallic things, not _powder_.

It doesn’t come as a surprise when she hits him with another snowball, and then another. Link feigns defeat, collapsing onto his back, but grabbing her on his way down. That manages to shut Impa up, and the two struggle in some sort of wrestling match as he tries his hardest to pin her down in the snow.

Then, the two just… _stop_.

Everything stills as they look at each other, her ruby eyes wide and curious. _Confused_. Link realises he has been holding his breath, but he can’t help but feel something from this. And it _is_ confusing. They have fun together, they fight well together, and the sex? The sex is _incredible_ , but the two don’t necessarily want each other in a committed sense either.

His mind wanders to this morning, early, when they woke up together. How perfectly they fit together, how she sounded, how quickly they came, and he wonders if she’s thinking about it too. Whether they _should_ be thinking about this. His eyes drop to her lips, then back to her eyes, thinking _, no, Link, this isn’t right._

Why is he so _confused_?

They both know this is temporary. Whatever they feel for each other, it’s very unclear, but it won’t be forever. It’ll pass.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t _intense_ , though. Heavy.

Impa clicks her fingers in his line of vision.

‘You still in there?’

Link blinks, looking rather stupid. ‘Oh. Yeah.’

‘You, uh, wanna let me up? I’m getting kinda cold.’

‘Sorry.’

Impa rolls her eyes. ‘It’s all right. _Tit_.’ A little reluctant, Link releases Impa, and they return to standing, brushing each other down. Impa glances at him. ‘You know you had me for a second there. I had no idea what your intention was.’

‘Neither did I,’ Link admits.

Raising a brow at him, Impa decides it best not to analyse what he meant exactly.

Anyway. The fun is over apparently, and the two must resume their mission. Link tries his best not to let his mind wander this time around. The castle is not too far away now. The closer they get to the abandoned heritage, the more anxious he feels, but Link tries his best to quell it. He _has_ to proceed.

The two of them manage to stay hidden. Guardians roam the lands freely, determined to kill. Link discovers a place where they can’t be seen, but can watch. It’s up a short hillside, behind some rocks. It isn’t as close as they would like to be yet for the time being, it is suitable. Impa crouches behind the rocks, keenly studying the area.

She says, quiet, ‘These fuckers are everywhere.’

‘I know,’ Link mutters. And they are. Link has never witnessed so many in one place. To think, the two of them were lost in the middle of this death field. ‘With the Divine Beasts, we should be able to handle the masses. We could not ask for more allies, Impa, so I’m confident we will succeed. In time.’

They both know Zelda has yet to access her powers.

Whether or not that will happen is a different concern entirely.

Link smiles softly at Impa.

‘You’re worried.’

‘Of course I’m worried,’ she replies. ‘I respect the princess’s fortitude, but she is hardly prepared.’

‘Will she ever be?’ Link challenges. ‘Also, maybe we should respect her choice, Impa. If this is how she wants to proceed, then we can’t take that away from her.’

‘I can’t allow Her Highness to be put in any danger.’

‘She will _always_ be in danger, so long as this war keeps going.’ Link comes closer. ‘Listen, if things get really bad out there, you take Princess Zelda as far away as possible. I can handle this on my own. I _have_ to. Your sole priority is to protect the princess.’

‘I _know_ my duty,’ Impa retorts. But it’s not so much _that_ which bothers her. ‘I think, perhaps it is appropriate you be the one to escort the princess to safety. With all due respect, Link, you’re not fully recovered yet.’

Link nods, ‘Which is why _you_ need to survive. It has to be you who takes her away.’ He twitches a smile. ‘We’ve both been witness to which one of us can handle it best out there.’

To be honest, Impa isn’t so convinced. While Link had endured the most wounds when they were here previously, that doesn’t necessarily reflect how good of a swordsman he actually is. Because, in her opinion, Link cannot be matched. He, surely, would be the one to protect Princess Zelda from harm.

However it looks as if Link doesn’t want to debate this.

She notices him wince in pain.

‘Let’s go back.’

Link nods. Quiet as ever, the two disappear out of sight, seemingly never present.

Their conversation, if anything, has thrown Impa back to reality. Link wanting Impa to abandon him if things go bad for the princess _—_ he could potentially die. There is a risk Impa may die as well, and she’s never actually dreaded the idea of another person dying before. Not like this. Link’s mortality is so vivid, and she would hate it if anything happened to him. The possibility of him meeting his death _—_

 _—_ does it _upset_ her?

Impa does not have a heart of stone. She feels and cares deeply for others, yet in situations such as these, feelings tend to _jeopardise_ everything, no matter how platonic they are. Before the war, she didn’t know Link, and their first meeting had been accidental. Initially, Impa was, if anything, _curious_ of him, but it was only later when she realised just how powerful this knight is. But also infuriatingly silent.

Their time together has brought Link more out of his shell. In more ways than one. She never anticipated they would share stories of their childhoods. Impa would have laughed if somebody told her they would end up sleeping together. Link is not her type, in many ways. But, for some reason, last night that didn’t matter. His kisses were nice, and he knows how to treat a woman right, not to mention he is _good_ at giving a woman pleasure.

For instance, this morning he was overwhelming. Impa can’t remember the last time she enjoyed sex as much. Although, to be fair, it has been a while since she’s been with anybody. She wonders if Link is the same. Or, if he _has_ been with anybody else. Impa is aware of his special connection with Lady Mipha, and even thinking about her makes Impa feel a tad guilty. If word ever got out that the two had slept together, Impa hopes Mipha wouldn’t take it personally or to heart.

But, honestly, what’s the point in overcomplicating matters?

They were both in a fragile place. They wanted comfort. They gave each other exactly that.

People do desperate things in a war.

Link and Impa wander, without realising, into the woods. It’s almost magical beneath the snowy leaves, the snow sparkling under the sunlight. Link kicks snow up into the air, shoving his hands into his pockets. The knight is admittedly surprised when Impa walks over to a nearby tree and starts to climb it. She reaches towards one of its branches, and picks off a fruit growing on its tip, before dropping it down to Link.

Catching it, Link inspects the fruit. It’s a deep purple.

‘Bite it,’ she calls from above.

Link frowns at her.

‘You’re supposed to bite it.’

 _No shit_ , he thinks, but does as he’s told.

Juice. There’s a lot of it. And it’s sweet. Tangy. _Yum_. Link has never tried this fruit before. His heart skips a beat when Impa decides to jump off the tree, somehow landing elegantly and without a broken bone.

Mouthful, he asks, ‘Whas’it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh.’ He gives the fruit a look.

‘Pft. It’s edible, don’t worry. I just don’t know the name of it. I used to live off these a lot when I was a kid. Purah wasn’t so fond of them.’

He swallows. ‘It tastes good.’

‘It does,’ she agrees. ‘For some reason, they only grow in the winter.’

There are so many contradictory facts which own this land, Link isn’t all that shocked to hear this. He finishes the fruit, following Impa through the woods. They pass silent princesses, the occasional wildlife scurrying past, and Link looks up at the leaves of the trees. They create a sort of canopy for them, and he realises just how hidden away they are.

Link pauses. Breathes.

Takes in the splendour and majesty.

Impa turns to look back at him.

‘It is beautiful here,’ Link says.

She inspects the surroundings herself. It is very pretty.

It baffles Link that not too far away, people are dying. People are suffering.

And here they are, enjoying the snow.

Link is baffled. Impa tilts her head, wondering how such a skilled knight can be so _dreamy_ at times. Does it not ever drive Mipha mad? Or, maybe she likes that about him? What exactly does Mipha see in Link which she loves so much?

‘We can stay.’

Puzzled, Link looks at Impa. ‘Stay?’

‘If we wanted. We could stay here. Nobody would find us.’

That is certainly a fantasy Link considers. Neither of them are sincere about it, but, it’s true: if they wanted to, they could stay here, and they would never be found. At least for a long while. They could make a life of their own, maybe fall in love eventually, have a family, grow old and die. Forgotten warriors, whose names nobody knew.

Link steps up towards her.

‘Could you do that?’

Impa shrugs. He sees right through her, though. Impa would never sacrifice her princess for anything, just as Link wouldn’t for his princess. The two are more similar than they like to admit, but perhaps their stubbornness is just as well. They would hate to be _too honest_ with one another. Especially right now.

Walking past her, Link ignores the pain in his legs beginning to worsen. Their shelter isn’t too far away. This time around, Impa walks behind, occasionally getting distracted by a flower, or bird, or something Link isn’t even aware of. As they get closer to the shelter, Link wonders if all they have done should just be kept secret. That they should never return to what occurred between them. Or, perhaps it should be out in the open.

Deciding to be brave and confront Impa on the issue, he stops dead in his tracks.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry about last night. I hope it doesn’t come between us.’

Frowning, Impa responds, ‘You make it sound as if we did something bad.’

‘No, I _—_ I didn’t mean it like that.’ Link faces her, eyes warm. ‘I suppose I’m not too sure where we both stand on the situation.’

She hesitates, eyes darting to the side, and then back to him. Impa shakes her head lightly, ‘It didn’t mean anything. We just _—_ had a moment. That’s all. Why? Is it bothering _you_?’

‘I wanted us to be clear, that’s all.’

‘Okay.’

And that’s that. As far as Link is concerned, the discussion is over.

No more sex. No more confusions. Neither want each other again. It’s really very simple. A one-off. A _moment_. Link is actually amused by her choice of words. _Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly call it a **moment** , Impa_. It’s just as well she is being casual about it, though. The more transparent her thoughts are on the matter, the better.

Tomorrow they will return to the others, as soon as they see sunrise.

Back to the war.

The village is becoming more and more familiar to Link. It’s odd how they have temporarily taken shelter in a place where families once were, children running around, where people were happy. Now, these two soldiers own the place, with its destroyed houses and malice-corrupt grounds. Link is actually quite relieved to be back. He needs to sit down. Leaning against the wall, he closes his eyes, hearing Impa make her way inside too.

As he rests the soreness of his joints, Impa says, ‘I’m going back outside.’

Link opens his eyes. ‘Where?’

‘Just outside. I want to see the sun set.’

‘Oh.’

Not wanting Impa to go alone, he forces himself to his feet, following her through the door. The sun is already beginning to descend behind the mountains, painting the colours of purple, red, yellow, in the skies. An angry, gorgeous chaos.

It is peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Impa sits quite comfortably on the ground, eyes on the pretty skies.

Link joins her.

‘You wish she was here, don’t you?’

 _Mipha_.

‘Sometimes,’ Link admits. ‘Although I’ve come to very much enjoy your company.’

‘Hm. I’ve come to enjoy yours too.’

‘That’s just as well,’ Link chuckles. ‘Why did you ask?’

‘I was just asking,’ she replies, tone vacant.

He wonders if she wishes somebody else were here, too. Whoever that somebody is, he thinks, is a lucky individual indeed. Link brings an arm around her shoulders, and draws her up against him. Impa hesitates at first, and then leans into his side. Despite his lean frame, Link is actually quite comfortable.

Resting his head to hers, they watch the sun set, until it has disappeared, the colours soon evaporating, and the chill embracing them.

‘You ready?’

It’s almost an echo of last night. She knows what he is referring to, though: are you ready to go back? Are you ready to resume? Are you ready to fight until you’re dying? And of course she is. She was born for this, just as he was. This is their purpose. What they trained themselves for. Why they exist, why the Gods blessed them with their gifts.

But they also _have to be_ ready. For them, there are no excuses. No moments of doubt. They are not allowed to fear, not allowed to cower; they can’t change their mind. They have to commit; stick to their vows, and serve those they would give their life for. Always, _less than_. But that’s okay. That’s all they know, and they prefer it that way.

Link wonders, when this is all over, if they may separate; grow distant.

He hopes that isn’t true.

‘Are you?’ She backfires.

Link smiles crookedly.

‘No,’ he answers honestly. ‘I never have been.’

Impa is touched by how truthful he is with her. She doesn’t reply, doesn’t want to admit that she feels the same. Neither are ready. How can _anybody_ be ready? What they are is _enough_ , though. Despite all their broken bones and lack of self-worth, they are the finest warriors anybody could have.

In order to win this war, they have to fight together.

At least, in this legend, Link doesn’t have to fight it alone.

They head back inside. Start a fire. By now, Link is famished, and he busily gets dinner ready. To neither of their surprise, Link is much more efficient with handling food. He even throws in a few spices he has collected on his travels. Impa hopes the smell won’t attract monsters, but every time she peers out of the window to check, they seem to be safe.

‘Where did you grow up?’ Link asks.

Impa is confused by the question. ‘What do you mean?’

‘For me, it was Zora’s Domain. You?’

‘Oh,’ Impa waves off the topic. ‘Here and there.’

‘Sorry?’

‘There wasn’t a _permanent_ place I grew up. Most of the time, I survived on the streets.’ Link watches her, listening. He didn’t realise Impa came from such an impoverished background. ‘Purah and I woke up every day, not knowing where we would end up. By the time I turned fourteen, I had had enough.’

‘You served the royal family at fourteen?’

‘To be fair, it’s the same age you enrolled with the academy.’

Link doesn’t debate that. ‘How did you end up working so close to the king?’

‘Same way you did.’

Protégés of their time. They were noticed because they were the best.

Abandoning the fire, Link comes over to join Impa by the window. He rests a hand on her shoulder, ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea you had it so rough.’

‘Please,’ Impa moves away from his touch. ‘It’s nothing. Don’t make it something.’

‘I suppose I didn’t realise how lucky I was to be adopted by the zora.’

‘We both endured in many different ways,’ Impa says.

Link acts almost instinctively, bringing his arms carefully around her into a hug. Frozen in place, Impa doesn’t know what to make of his affection, and, hesitant, she slowly embraces him back. He is warm, firm but soft; strong around her. She doesn’t understand how Link can make her feel _exposed_ like this, and she’s worried this amount of influence he has over her is permanent. Or, if it’s just _—_ _fleeting_.

They embrace for a while. Comforting one another from all they’ve been through; Link making it clear he hears her, he cares, he’s here. _The bastard_ , she thinks, _what a softie_. But there is a charm to his affections. More than a charm. He smells good, feels good, wonderful even. As amazing as he did last night.

When he pulls away, he meets her eyes, smiling.

For the remainder of the evening Link is anxious to return to the others. Hopefully, they won’t ask too many questions as to where they have been, and Impa will answer simply that Link was severely injured. The past few days were exceptional to say the least. Link has never actually been with anybody like he has with Impa. There is her saving his life, the mental fights Link suffered, and then _each other_. Both of them are keen to move on from it all. Discard everything and leave it in this abandoned village.

Neither were entirely sure how the night would progress. They settle in for their final sleep before returning. Link thinks, a part of him may miss this. Whatever _this_ is. If anything, the events of the prior days have taught him a great deal that nothing in life is clear-cut. Nothing that truly matters to him, anyway. Life can be confusing, unexpected, and sometimes for all the best reasons. These days are special to him.

Because they want to, they look to each other for comfort again. Their knees bump, he goes in a little too fast this time around, but the two quickly recover. Link holds her close, tightly to him, hot and throbbing inside of her, his movements softer than this morning. He seems to be taking his time, not wanting to abandon the sensation in a hurry. Link thrusts deeply, his breaths heavy against her, a shiver running up and down his spine every time she gasps or moans. Every little reaction from her only increases his enjoyment.

They have sex long after the fire is out. Link hasn’t the slightest idea what time it is, and their plan to rest up well before their trip obviously fell through. _Worth it though_ , he thinks. Link closes his eyes, racing them to their orgasm, and she’s heaven to him; _he loves it,_ and what he feels for her is certainly intense; a confused bundle of emotions he can’t decipher. Impa pulls at his hair, and they kiss, lost in their own little escape for a while longer.

Afterwards, the two dress so they don’t freeze, and Link encourages her to lie with him. Mainly due to exhaustion Impa doesn’t refuse. He holds her, wonderful, closing his eyes and wondering about their survival. Will they both get out of this alive? Will one of them perish? He holds her more secularly. _Don’t think like that_ , he thinks. _Just don’t think about that_. They _have_ to survive. They _have_ to win.

Link doesn’t sleep. Not really. He actually gives up trying, his bladder full. Careful not to wake up Impa, he disentangles himself from her, before hurrying outside into the snow. Link lets out a sigh as he relieves himself. From where he stands, he can see the sun is beginning to rise. A wave of excitement rushes through him, but when he turns back to the house he and Impa have shared these past few days, he can’t help but feel bittersweet.

The knight gives her another hour, before disturbing her slumber. Fortunately Impa hasn’t forgotten their plan for today, and she wakes up quickly. Neither are feeling particularly hungry, but they eat what they can, before sorting out their stash for the journey. Impa kicks the remains of the fire, burnt wood flying in whichever direction. They make sure they haven’t forgotten anything, that there have been no signs of their presence. Impa is the first to depart, and Link, giving the house one last examination, follows after her, closing the door.

If all goes accordingly the two should be back at basecamp by late afternoon. So long as they have each other, they should be safe; both are armed, ready. Neither discuss the past few days, nor last night; in fact, none of the events are mentioned again. As if it were fiction, or a story never meant to be shared. Nobody needs to know, nobody _has_ to know, and that’s all right. Impa and Link’s lives have been built on secrets.

So, together, it is onwards.

end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I anticipated this story would not have a wide audience, however I am extremely grateful to those who have sent kudos and/or comments. It means so much to me. As does this story! It certainly went down a path of its own, and I very much enjoyed going into Link and Impa's rather bizarre relationship. I can't recall the last time I wrote about friends who were sleeping together. And who, ultimately, do not fall in love. It's a dynamic I don't see very often, so I wanted to give it a shot myself.  
> Many thanks for reading this short story! Please do share your feedback below if you have enjoyed the story.  
> Take care!


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